The human brain can soften as a result of incessant listening to music with an intent to commit prose.

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The New York City Ballet is always about the realm of possibilities, the realm of what the human body can do, what the human spirit can do. And it's about listening, it's about listening to remarkable music and how we respond to that.

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My Poetry Has Become Prose

MY POETRY HAS BECOME PROSE

My Poetry has become Prose
I have lost my music
Nothing sings in me;
I have lost my richness of meaning
Nothing in me is not linear, flat and clear.
I have lost my poetry
And have become a writer of Prose
In pseudo Poetic Form-
There is in me no Line
That says more than itself-
I am Prose now not Poetry
And yet still secretly hoping
My inner irony will
In contradicting me
Save me.

poem by Shalom FreedmanReport problemRelated quotes
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It Seems Deliberate To Soften The Blows

It seems deliberate to soften the blows,
When facts are revealed and the truth is exposed.
And the advocating of attacks on those picked,
Have been publicly admitted...
To have those accusing to be in the midst of it.

It seems deliberate to soften the blows,
When opposition discover themselves as foes...
And not the ones they have depicted to be,
Of criminal intent...
As they wish others to believe and perceive.

It seems deliberate to soften the blows,
When it has been revealed and the public knows...
Who has been incompetent!
With a sleazing of an integrity,
Undercover but eventually discovered.

To then have themselves excused...
With a forgiveness wished to be given.
And alibis used.
As a defense mechanism,
To make senseless their attacks...
They were prepared to abuse others without the facts

poem by Lawrence S. PertillarReport problemRelated quotes
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Race

Lie down, [fair 1//pheromone], and come away
Till the rain is over and gone
G-g-gimme the beat now (face the music)
Lead line (face the music)
If the air is a little thick in this room 2nite
I reckon its the result of an onslaught of separatist rookies
Overcome by this colorful sight
Talkin so fast that even they
Talkin so fast that even they
Dont know what they mean
Of all the things that base a rhyme
How is it that u everytime
Regurgitate the racist lines that keep us apart?
Thank God this aint monopoly
Ud make us all go back 2 start
Race
In the space I mark human (face the music)
Race
Face the music
We all bones when we dead
Race
In the space I mark human (face the music)
Cut me, cut u
Both the blood is red
I gotcha
Race
Race
Check it
Three seats over theres a lady black
Entrusted 2 her care is a little white girl
And the fact of the matter is
Before her momma or another kid at school
Tells her about the fallacy that 1 race rules over the other
Shed be a much-better-off-left fool (face the music)
If we never heard about the evils that those before us committed
Then how my dear, tell me now how my dear, tell me now how now would we know
And then the band say
Race
In the space I mark human (face the music)
Race
Face the music
We all bones when we dead
Race
In the space I mark human (face the music)
Cut me, cut u
Both the blood is red
I gotcha
Race
Race
(face the music)
D-d-down with h-i-s-t-o-r-y and all this bs propagandi
Keepin u from me and me from u as we grow
I dont wanna know (I dont wanna know)
Why those before us hated each other
Id rather believe they never did
Id rather believe (Id rather, Id rather believe)
That theres hope 4 a kid
And if he imitates the best
I guess thats what Ill try 2 be
And I will let the rest dissolve with my guitar underneath the sea
Race
(face face face face face)
Face the music (face the music)
Face the music
Race
In the space I mark human (face the music)
Race
Face the music
We all bones when we dead
Race
In the space I mark human (face the music)
Cut me, cut u
Both the blood is red
Get it?
Race
Got it
Race
Face the music
Race race
(face face face the music)
Race race
(face face face the music)
Race race
Race race
(face-f-face the music)
Race

song performed by by PrinceReport problemRelated quotes
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George Steiner

The most important tribute any human being can pay to a poem or a piece of prose he or she really loves is to learn it by heart. Not by brain, by heart; the expression is vital.

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Sonnet: Poetry versus Prose

Some write their poetry almost like prose;
The two are not diff’rent in any way?
How can a thorn ever become a rose?
The grain is grain; the hay remains but hay!

But some write prose with emotions afilled;
Or add some verses in-between the lines;
One can’t become the other, howev’r skilled;
How can the noon be dawn although sun shines?

The functions poems do, prose can never,
Where right words placed, give music and rhythm;
But of the two, the poet’s cleverer;
His work is shorter, neater, and more trim.

All praise the bard; his glory’s forever!
For prose can’t stand the test of time ever!

6-25-2002 by Dr John Celes

poem by John CelesReport problemRelated quotes
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Fundamental of Liar Chapter XXXIV: Sin

of course, there are some man who deserved to die
if you want to kill, kill by yourself
hold your knife and stab
but don't use somebody else's hands
and wash your hands clean from responsibility
human will pay for their sins, maybe in horrible way
so what's the payoff for you to make someone's life gone like an animal?
you say it's the fault of the one who makes you commit a sin
commit a sin but don't want to take the consequences
only for such reason
should human treated cruel like that?

poem by Maria SudibyoReport problemRelated quotes
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Poem Versus Prose

You do not like this poem
And I do not like your prose
Enough with your predicates
And your subjects
In this poem you will find
No commas and semicolons

This poem
Is armed with rhythms
Stanzas and shifts
This poem has no end
There are no colons
In this poem

Your prose is replete with nuances
This poem echoes
The plight of the oppressed
And dispossessed

In your prose I find parentheses
This poem speaks of life
Your prose can be edited
Cut this poem and it bleeds

You do not like this poem
And I do not like your prose
Prose has pauses and hyphens
Prose comes to a stop
This poem plugs images
Even in your head

Prose deals with fiction
And nonfiction
This poem can be heard
It can be felt
It speaks of hunger
Of hopelessness
Homelessness
It speaks of a bitter reality

You do not like this poem

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Wole Soyinka

My horizon on humanity is enlarged by reading the writers of poems, seeing a painting, listening to some music, some opera, which has nothing at all to do with a volatile human condition or struggle or whatever. It enriches me as a human being.

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Fundamental of Liar Chapter CXIX: In Their Eyes

You don't intent to be modest
You don't mean to say those white lies
You just don't want to be judged bad in their eyes

You don't intent to be friendly
You don't mean to chat a long
You just don't want to look ugly in their eyes

You don't intent to be strong
You don't mean to show power
You just don't want to lose control in their eyes

You don't intent to be brave
You don't mean to take the role of hero
You just don't want to appear weak in their eyes

You don't intent to be obedient
You don't mean to do all the orders
You just don't want to be considered a threat in their eyes

You don't intent to be professional
You don't mean to follow the rules
You just don't want to be seen indifferent in their eyes

You don't intent to be kind
You don't mean to give a help
You just don't want to raise suspiciousness in their eyes

You don't intent to be generous
You don't mean to be involved in any relation
You just don't want to be outsider in their eyes

You don't intent to be honest
You don't mean to tell the truth
You just don't want to be the one who should be responsible in their eyes

You don't intent to be forgiving
You don't mean to forget every mistake
You just don't want to be called cruel in their eyes

poem by Maria SudibyoReport problemRelated quotes
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A pencil sketch of Mozart

It’s a snapshot, except
before the age of the camera
yet more of a decisive moment
than any posed painting;

as any photographer,
lighting director, would see,
he’s next to you, could be
round about the fifth row back
of the stalls;

looking so straight ahead
that it doesn’t seem to be
the stage box; and it must surely be
a grand theatre, the lighting’s strong

on his white neck-stock,
his powdered hair, even catching
the lower white of his focussed eye;
he all there, he’s all here, and
attentive as a critic; the opera,
as it surely is, is playing and engages
all his faculties; and yet

there’s an appreciation
holding his lips far from the
childish joke, the poverty, the family deaths,
or even from the unimaginable creation
of music that speaks of something
deep in human hearts, speaks
of something beyond the human heart.

He’s listening to the music
as if he’d never heard it before yet
you can see it’s all inside him, too -
whatever ‘inside’ means
to genius;

it’s Mozart, there beside you
as you sketch him; as the
music you’re not watching
as you watch him and your pencil -

the music is telling you
what life’s about; and more.
Back to the sketch, with all the care you muster -
this will be the record for a thousand years
of watching Mozart listening
to the music of his self.

*

(revised)

poem by Michael ShepherdReport problemRelated quotes
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Limit

Tempo!
Limit;
My brain,
Your brain,
Einstein's brain! !
In common,
But, to drive us apart with negative minds.

Tempo!
Limit;
My brain,
Your brain,
Einstein's brain! !
In common,
But to hold us together with positive works.

Toad, load, road, broad!
Ignominious,
Tent, intent;
test, attest;
Mutter, butter, cutter, utter, gutter, putter! !
But, let us all try to do positive works only in this life.

poem by Edward Kofi LouisReport problemRelated quotes
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Duke Ellington

It's like an act of murder; you play with intent to commit something.

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And Pray Tell

And pray tell why was it you
that came and took my mind?
Was it that you searched for me
or was I not your find?
Why not some other one to seek
and take over their brain?
Whatever the reason, I am lost
and so I do remain
entranced by the seeking
and feeling the weakening
in my ability to have you gone.

'Don't go. Don't leave.' that's what I hear
repeating in my brain.
Its incessant call is a constant,
like a melodic refrain
that never wants to end.

poem by Edwina ReizerReport problemRelated quotes
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Brain Plus Heart

Wonder this brain human
Lasting ever to only reasoning
And never malleable to feelings..

Wonder this heart human
Lasting ever to only feelings
And never susceptible to reasoning..


Wonder this brain human
Despite its vast comprehension, acquisition
Never records the requisite in heart

Wonder this heart human
Despite its vast experience, endurance
Never ceases its inquisition somber

A hearty brain, a brainy heart
The human to rest in solace
Wonder if ever be getable..

poem by Indira RenganathanReport problemRelated quotes
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Two schools of thought.

.

The lady chose to take offence
Although I said she wrote fine prose
She may not know the difference
between poetry and prose

She thought that she wrote poetry
But what she wrote was free form prose.
I offered no apology
It was not my fault that she chose.

Not to learn the basic rules
defining prose and poetry
Two very different writing schools
in which to show your artistry.

The so called experts can’t agree
and coined the term poetic prose.
Though writing cannot possible
be classed as poetry and prose.

If it’s not metered it is prose
no matter how poetical.
But you’re entitled to compose.
Fine prose and call it poetry.

Though I suggest respectfully
you should be proud of writing prose.
As some do most successfully.
But it was poetry I chose

Thursday,11 March 2010
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers

poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e HoggReport problemRelated quotes
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Poet's Thirst

Why do I thirst to pen a verse?
Would prose not do as well?
The rhyme is music to my ears
and the lyrical swell
can never be found in prose
and so I say to those.
'Write your story in novel form
or fictionalize your book.
I will pen my verse instead
and capture you with my hook.'

poem by Edwina ReizerReport problemRelated quotes
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If i die?

If i die will any1 miss me?
If i die will i be remembered?
If i die will they cry because im gone?
If i die will my best friend be there?
If i die will she care?
If i die would people change the way they think?
If i commit suicide will people judge the person that I was?
If i commit suicide will I get to see my sis because shes in heaven?
If i commit suicide will some1 blame themself?
If i commit suicide will my parents be embarresed to call me their son?
If i think of these things constantly should i commit suicide and take the easy way out or should i fight and pray to god for the best?

poem by Edddy RodReport problemRelated quotes
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Black Bruises II

I can ponder upon the blackness,
the garrulous of silence
placated by benign solitude
I can endure the ostracizing
listening to lulling lullabies,
listening to trembling metals,
listening to enraptured echoes,
listening to a soundless shattering,
listening to nothingness,
listening to guffawing crows,
listening to diffident clocks,
listening to the waning time;
but am I the only one listening
to these black bruised whispers?

poem by Norman SantosReport problemRelated quotes
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Hi-Fi

Slipping through the city sliding train to train
Sulking on the subway music in our brain
She and me together in the city sounds
Me and mona lisa on the underground
Hi-fi in the white city yeah yeah
Hi-fi in the white city yeah yeah
Slipping through the city sliding brain to brain
Sulking on the subway listening to the train
She and me together speed through space and time
Grafitti in our eyes and music in our mind
Hi-fi in the white city yeah yeah
Hi-fi in the white city yeah yeah
Hi-fi in the white city yeah yeah
Hi-fi in the white city yeah yeah
Hi-fiHi-fiHi-fi in the white city yeah yeah

song performed by by Suede from Head MusicReport problemRelated quotes
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